Once a Gryffindor
by shadowycat
Summary: If you were sorted into your House at 11, would that be that forever? Albus Dumbledore has a little chat with one of his oldest companions.


Once a Gryffindor…..

Far later into the evening than he'd hoped, Albus Dumbledore entered his office. Heavy dark blue robes whispered softly against the aged stones of the floor as he crossed the room to his large cluttered desk. With a feeling of relief he rounded the desk and lowered his weary body into his chair. The chair immediately conformed to his shape and warmed slightly to ease the aches in his aged muscles while gently massaging away his stiffness. He expelled a great breath and glanced around the familiar room with warm eyes. It was such a feeling of comfort to attain his sanctuary after another long and taxing day.

Perhaps he should indulge in a little snack, even though the hour was late. The house elves wouldn't mind and dinner was hours and hours ago. Yes, some hot tea and a few of their delicious little sugary cakes would hit the spot nicely right about now, perhaps the ones with the lemony filling. Those always were his favorite.

His eyes danced along with the cheery fire in the grate and moved longingly to the waiting book on the table beside his most comfortable easy chair. A snack and a little reading… the perfect ending to a long, tedious day. As he contemplated the delights just waiting to grace his palate and ease his mind, he leaned back in his chair and his eyes fell on the shelf near his desk on which dwelled one of his oldest companions.

A thoughtful expression crossed his craggy face as he found himself speculating on whether or not it was time to try again. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have such a golden opportunity at his fingertips. Why shouldn't he indulge himself? The insight he'd received over the years had been invaluable. It had done him a world of good to be able to chart the changes in himself as he occupied the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts. It was immensely helpful to be able to see the entire Hogwarts experience in himself as he changed to fit the situations that life continued to thrust in his path with ever increasing frequency.

Yes, absolutely! It was time for another re-sorting.

Smiling eagerly in anticipation, he rose from his chair and approached the dusty shelf where the school Sorting Hat resided in all its threadbare glory. Stomach aquiver in anticipation… or possibly simply from hunger, he mustn't forget to order that food, he plucked the hat from its resting place and plopped it onto his head.

Then the Headmaster folded his hands over his still growling stomach and stared into the darkness beneath the brim of the hat. A small voice sighed and spoke dryly against his ear.

"Back again, are we? You wouldn't happen to be here for a game of chess or help with another one of those Muggle cross wordy things you like so much, I suppose? It's not as if I don't have better things to do with my time, you know. I'm not sitting here merely collecting dust despite what it might look like to you."

Dumbledore smiled to himself. Any conversation with the hat always had to begin with a complaint about being interrupted. The grumbling and posturing always reminded him of Severus. They were both always most willing to help once you first acknowledged how busy and important they were.

He opened his mouth to speak, but once more the hat got the first word in. "I've only begun to sort out the class standings, so there's no point in asking for them yet. The last of the professors only gave me their grades yesterday. It was that Trelawney woman. She's always the last! You know how it unsettles me to have to peer inside her mind. Without a doubt that creature possesses the most dithering, chaotic mind I've ever examined.

"Oh, true, there's a genuine spark of talent there, but it's so well hidden under the most horrendous collection of irrelevancies that I've ever come across that it's a wonder the woman can function at all! I'll need a few days to get my equilibrium back before I can tackle the standings. You'll simply have to wait."

"Let the games begin," thought Dumbledore to himself, quickly realizing his error when the hat responded crankily.

"Games? What games? What are you on about now? Are you still reading those mystery stories for amusement? I'm afraid you'll have to simply do what most mortals do, Albus. You'll just have to read to the end of the tale to find out 'who dun it'. A curious phrase that. I simply don't have the time at the moment to examine all the clues in detail so you can figure it out ahead of time. You do realize that it's often impossible. So many of those cheeky authors cheat and hide the most necessary clues until the final denouncement anyway. It's a waste of my valuable time."

"I'm sure you're right," stated Dumbledore mildly.

"Hmmf," the hat responded stiffly, still a bit ruffled. "It's been like King's Cross Station in here lately, you know. My nerves will go if I don't get some rest. Not only has everyone brought me their grades, but suddenly they all have conundrums that they want me to solve. Please, tell your groundskeeper that I simply cannot be bothered every time he forgets where he left something. If he doesn't apply that brain of his he's going to completely lose the use of it, you know. Heart of a Lion, though. No point in ever re-sorting that one. He'll never change."

"Your Professor Snape, though… He's another kettle of fish altogether. Not that he'd ever request a re-sorting… oh, no. His life's identity is far too entwined with being a Slytherin. Still, he might be surprised with what I can see in him now that was only a glimmer when he first put me on his head. I must say, I do wish he'd wash his hair a bit more frequently, however. I have tremendous difficulty absorbing all that grease after he has me on for awhile. You will speak to him about that, won't you Albus?"

Dumbledore smiled again. "I'm sure you know the answer to that one, don't you?"

The voice harrumphed in annoyance, "Yes, I suppose I do, but it was worth a try."

The Headmaster's curiosity was piqued by the hat's comments so he ventured a question, as he felt his way across the room to drop easily back into his chair.

"Why was Severus consulting you? Was he merely submitting his end of term grades?"

"Oh, no. That was merely the official reason if anyone asked. Always has an explanation prepared in advance, that one. He's wrestling with an intellectual problem that he simply can't get a handle on no matter how he approaches it. I tried to be of help, but I'm afraid that I wasn't particularly useful. I can only know what he does, after all, and I'm afraid he doesn't have all the pieces yet."

Intriguing. One never knows when such interesting pieces of information about one's colleagues will come home to roost. "What was this problem that Severus is finding so vexing, may I ask? Unless he swore you to secrecy, of course."

The hat snorted. "I'm sure he would've if the idea had occurred to him. He doesn't miss a trick usually. I suppose he doesn't consider this to be personal enough for him to worry about if anyone else finds out that he's thinking about it. He's wrong, of course." The hat's voice took that slight upward lilt that Dumbledore had always interpreted as a smile.

"The man is still trying to turn the Wolfsbane Potion into a cure for Lycanthropy. Theoretically the changes he's made should work, but they don't and it's driving him to distraction. He's rather desperate on the subject of werewolves. A very deep seated revulsion and quite a lot of fear, there. It's certainly not difficult to sort out his feelings on the subject, although he doesn't seem to find it as trivial himself. That man could hold a grudge until doomsday. If determination alone would solve the problem, then he'd be long done with it, but unfortunately it won't. He's missing something vital. Until he realizes what it is, I can't help him."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair making himself as comfortable as possible. "I'm sure that Severus will figure it out eventually. The work relating to the Order of the Phoenix has brought him once more into closer contact with Remus Lupin so I'm sure the subject weighs more heavily in his thoughts than it has for awhile. As you say, it's important to him, and that can act as a wonderful stimulus for the mind."

"Oh, yes, fear is a wonderful motivator, no doubt about it."

There was a pause and the darkness under the hat brim seemed to thicken slightly as if the hat was also settling down and getting comfortable.

"So, Headmaster, you still haven't told me what brings you for a visit tonight. If it's not games or puzzles or 'whodunits' what possessed you to put me on? Fear wouldn't happen to be the reason for our little conversation, would it? You aren't here for another re-sorting, are you? It seems as if we just did that. Your House affiliations don't change as often as you change socks, you know. It takes quite a lot of maturing and life experience to affect the sort of meaningful alterations that would cause me to change my mind about where to place you."

Dumbledore nodded. "True… and nothing may have changed, but I thought it was worth consulting you, just to be sure. We haven't done this in more than a year, and like so many of them recently, it's been a very momentous time. Not that it really matters, of course, but I do find it interesting to see how life has affected my mental state over time."

"Personally, I preferred you during your Hufflepuff years, myself," said the hat. "A lot got accomplished around here when you didn't have as much extraneous nonsense to have to be worrying about all the time. You could really enjoy some good puttering about."

Dumbledore smiled fondly. "Yes, that was a relatively tranquil time, wasn't it? Though far too fleeting, I'm afraid. I haven't felt like a Hufflepuff in years. Too bad. It was the affiliation that I believe my inner being was most contented with, once I'd tempered the reckless optimism of my youth."

"I think you continue to do this in the hope that I'll send you back there where you were most comfortable, but trying times rarely call for a Hufflepuff at the helm. They steer best in calm waters, I fear, and as you say, the waters are anything but calm at the moment. Oh, all right, let's give it a look see. Hmm."

Slightly anticipatory silence reigned for a few moments as one intelligence probed the other. Then the hat began to speak once again.

"It's as I suspected, Albus. Nothing has changed. Your actions and thoughts of the last year place you exactly where I've thought you to be for many years now. You've kept your council close and not shared your burdens widely. You've manipulated every situation as necessary and played quite skillfully with the lives around you.

"You've pushed and striven hard to attain that what you've felt was necessary for the good of all, and you haven't let sentiment get in your way. This year in particular has marked you firmly at the side of those who, however reluctantly, make use of anything and anyone to achieve the end they seek. I'm afraid, Headmaster that you are still very firmly seated in Slytherin House. No doubt about it."


End file.
